


Might As Well Be Playing With Lightning

by pureklaination



Series: Year In The Life [2]
Category: Glee RPF, Teen Wolf (TV) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 13:11:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1133050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pureklaination/pseuds/pureklaination
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Darren tries to figure out his feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Might As Well Be Playing With Lightning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crisscobrien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crisscobrien/gifts).



  


Life was practically back to normal for Darren. They spent a long few weeks recouping after the PCAs and were finally given some vacation time. He could have spent the whole break bumming around his parents house or trying to put some work into the album but everything just seemed like so much effort. 

Chris was deep in his creative cave pulling yet another book out of his ass, much to no one’s surprise, so it’s not like Darren could even call him to get his attention. An email might work, but it would depend on if Chris saw the pop-up at all in his haze. 

Really it just wasn’t worth pulling Chris out of it only to hang out. He wouldn’t be into it. 

So there Darren was, laying on his bed in the early afternoon, the Christmas season over and everyone back to their normal routines of work and all of the crap that came along with it, with absolutely nothing to do. He opened his Twitter to scan through it only to see that Ricky had been plugging his projects again and that oh hey _his fans aren't stupid_. Sighing, he flicked over to the music app and put on whatever playlist it was currently running on, eyeing sideways for a set of earbuds which, as per usual, were nowhere to be seen. Big surprise. 

Two days Darren had been on break and he was already going batshit with boredom. The hangover from cast breakup was (thank god) 100% gone. His foot involuntarily moved to the music as Darren flicked over to recent Messages. 

Dylan. 

Their night was _awesome_. There had been such potential there, potential for more than just a one night stand. They could have really been a thing, but it had been a few weeks and nothing more had been said between the two. Just thinking about it made Darren’s head ache. There were no clauses for people outside of his usual cast: he could flirt, take them home, get pictures taken with anyone, whatever. So long as for Ricky’s sake he was seen with a “variety” of people. 

Okay, so maybe there was a bit of a clause but there was so much more freedom of interpretation, unlike the strict policy specifically designed to keep the cast scandals down to a minimum, which really just meant Chris and him. Everyone knew it the second it was included in the season three contracts. But thinking about that would just add depression to the boredom, so Darren steered his thoughts back to Dylan. 

Would it be strange to call him out of the blue and just invite him over again? Over to his parents house, sure. It would probably be weird to be in the same house. Not that his parents cared who he had over; he was considered an adult by every standard but... yeah, nah. Hiring a hotel just to hang out with someone he had a one night stand with would just be tacky and very two-night-standy. Totally not worth it. 

But he couldn’t help but wonder what a date with Dylan would be like, Darren felt a glimmer of betrayal deep in his stomach and sighed to keep it down. There was no sense of loyalty owed to someone he very clearly wasn’t with. 

They’d been avoiding the inevitable conversation, Chris for the most part happy to go along with whatever his PA and contract said. But then, a few months ago…either way there was absolutely no reason not to call Dylan, ask him what he was up too, maybe see him? 

Sighing again, Darren looked out the window. Another perfectly stunning day with only a few clouds in the sky and a warmish breeze. 

The sun was just over the other side of the treehouse promising another beautiful sunset and _jesus_ he was bored. 

The treehouse. 

Perfect pickup line? _“Would you like to come and see my treehouse?”_ Smooth as hell. 

Also dorky, potentially mortifying and childish. 

Darren bit his lip and brought up Dylan’s contact details, selecting send sms. The last message was there - a smiley face from when they’d exchanged numbers.. Knowing full well that if Dylan was looking at his phone and for some reason chose to look at that particular conversation he would see the little speech bubble pop up and god damn did Apple have no thoughts to how invading the live conversation shit was? Like, if Dylan never replied Darren would still get a delivery receipt and was it even worth it? 

_Crap_. 

**[Darren] Hey Dylan it’s Darren, I was wondering if you were busy tomorrow? I would like to show you my treehouse.**

Shit, crap, fuck of course he knew who it was, Darren had put his own number into Dylan’s phone. 

_{Dylan} Hi Darren, long time no see :)_

_{Dylan} We’re just wrapping up filming today, it’s going to be a long one but yeah, I’m free tomorrow. Your “treehouse” is that what we're calling it now?”_

**[Darren] I’m at my parents for my holidays. treehouse is not a metaphor it’s an actual thing. In my backyard. Outside.**

_{Dylan} Well that’s not embarrassing at all._

_{Dylan} Not sure what to follow that up with._

_{Dylan} Yes, I would like to see the treehouse._

_{Dylan} Like a date? Or like a… Not date?”_

Darren had to think about it for a minute, did he mean a date or a Not Date? Of course he meant a date. But a _date_ seemed so official. Did that mean they were _dating_ or just like, seeing each other? 

_{Dylan} So that’s an awkwardly long pause. Did you mean just to um, hang out?_

**[Darren] Date. I mean a date.**

Date. Ha. Date meant food and activities and it’s been a very long time since Darren had done a _date_ and who’s stupid idea was it to have a date at his parents house? While they were home. In a treehouse that hadn’t been cleaned in a year and oh _shit. __. _{Dylan} Omg I totally forced your hand with the whole *date* thing didn’t i? We can just hang out if you like, no labels required, I’m a label-free kinda guy. I’d be cool with it._ _

**[Darren] Nope, I meant date and date it is, tomorrow night, about 6? I’ll send the address. Unless you don’t want date-pressure in which case we’ll just be hanging out. In a treehouse. At my parents house.**

**[Darren] Like adults.**

_{Dylan} Sounds awesome. I’ll see you at 6._

Well, there were certainly things to do now. Like clean the stupid treehouse for tomorrow and find cushions, and probably try and organize food. Like a picnic or something. 

Darren got up so fast all the blood rushed to his head, making him dizzy, and he picked up a pair of pants from the floor to pretend he still had some shred of decency. Darren walked outside and straight to the treehouse. What it really needed was a good hose-out to get the leaves that had fallen and the dirt-stained paint looking relatively clean. But experience told him the hose didn’t reach that far. So he either had to go buy a new, longer hose or spend the next four hours with a bucket and a scrubbing brush. 

After his quick trip to the local hardware shop, Darren hosed out the wooden decking, adding eucalyptus scented all-purpose cleaner (neat) poured on the decking (and the walls, and the roof and every available surface) for an added touch of class. 

There was still a scrubbing brush, but two hours was definitely preferable to four and by the time it was dark he had gotten the place clean enough to consider making someone else sit in it. He would have to sit because Darren could only just stand and he was short as hell. 

He joined his parents for dinner, broaching the subject of having someone over tomorrow night when asked why the hell he was cleaning the treehouse and if his boredom had finally reached new levels of OCD. They were cool with it, as he knew they would be. In fact, his father asked if Darren would like an extension lead put out there for lights like he used to back in the day. When he was 10. 

After dinner Darren grabbed a dishtowel to help his mother with the dishes with the intention of working out the last part of his master plan. “What can I do for sort-of a picnic dinner that doesn’t need to be in the fridge all evening and will keep for a few hours?” 

Cerina’s eyes crinkled like she was trying not to laugh, and Darren looked very hard at the clean plate he was drying off. “Well, I know that Chris doesn’t eat nearly as much as you, so maybe a cold chicken salad or something?” 

“No mom, it’s not Chris.” Darren corrected quickly. Too quickly. 

Cerina raised an eyebrow, dried her hands off on her jeans and tipped Darren’s chin up to force him to look her in the eyes. _”Not Chris?” __Darren shook his head. “Well, who’s this person then?” She enquired._

Darren tried to look down again. It’s not that he was embarrassed, but he’d only ever brought two people _home_ and well, he didn’t have any idea what Dylan was. He couldn’t just say ‘this guy I had a one-night stand with a few weeks ago’. “He’s a friend. We… met at the People’s Choice Awards.” 

“Oh the tall one that looks similar to Chris that you were photographed with?” Cerina asked, turning back to the dishes. 

“He looks nothing like Chris, mom.” Darren said, picking up the last plate. 

Cerina sighed, stopping the dishes all together and drying her hands off again. She pulled Darren over to the kitchen table and motioned for him to take a seat. 

“Dare, don’t hurt this boy because you’re lonely. I wasn’t implying that was the only reason you were seeing him, there’s no need to take it as a personal affront. In fact, it’s nice to see you not pining for a change.” 

Darren gaped, closing his eyes to gather his thoughts and replied, “I take affront to the term _pining_ , but I’m not seeing Dylan because he’s even remotely like Chris, in fact, he’s completely different. Bright, outgoing, incredibly sweet…” 

“Oh? I see. Excuse my ignorance on this bright, outgoing _incredibly sweet_ guy you’ve never mentioned.” She said with added emphasis on the compliments and a twinkle in her eye. 

“Mom, I _like_ this guy and I want to give him dinner and learn more about him and maybe I’ve been pining a little bit, but -- I don’t know where this is going.” 

Cerina smiled, “So. Dinner. What does he like to eat?” 

“I don’t know.” Darren admitted stoically. 

“So a few different options? Sandwiches, cheese, fruit? First date food?” Cerina asked. 

Darren nodded, a hint of a smile on his face, “Yeah. First date food.” 

Because Darren had a date. A first date. With Dylan. 

*** 

Darren woke up at 9:50am, one of the best perks of being on vacation. It was a warm enough day to need only a sheet over him. Rubbing his eyes, Darren stretched out on the bed trying to wake up enough to think straight and failing. 

Darren hit the dock on his bedside table that held his iPhone and smiled at the first lines of Cobrastyle. Perfect wake up music, just enough of a beat to get blood moving around in his veins and Darren’s eyes to open fully. As an added bonus, one of the songs that he’d gotten in the download frenzy after watching the first season of Teen Wolf, which in turn made him think about Dylan again and wow, there suddenly seemed to be not enough hours in the day to do everything he wanted to do. 

Like get up and shower. 

Instead, Darren focused on the feeling of blood thrumming through his body like he’d had three cups of coffee then tried to sit still for a long period of time. _Excitement_. Overheated. Wanting and half-hard under the white sheet but so distracted. Maybe too distracted but totally worth the risk. 

Letting his hand wander casually down one thigh, completely shameless in his need for a little self-gratification first thing in the morning. This was totally going to add to his to-do list today. Change the sheets, remake the bed so it’s decent just in case they don’t stay in the treehouse or if they drink too much or… 

Stop. _Thinking._. Focus. 

Ten minutes later, when he could actually stand again, Darren finally got up and went in search of coffee. 

*** 

Getting coffee and a fresh towel to take to the shower, debating again over the merits of a bath instead, Darren decided there was no way in hell he could stay still long enough -- though maybe he should wait until later that afternoon after everything was set up before getting ready. He was nervous as hell and nothing he did, could do or should do was going to change that. 

Shaving. Tidy up or clean like he was the first time? Shrugging to himself in the mirror and brushing a layer of creamy soap over his face. Clean it was. Also, manscaping because that required no justification whatsoever. 

Darren showered - carefully - with lots of soap. Probably too much soap but hey, overkill was preferable to not enough. 

Time actually moved pretty fast, between getting the cushions and blankets out of the linen closet and stringing up some lights. Making some food and putting in the fridge. Cooking brownies because they were possibly the best dessert _ever > and a quick trip down to the liquor store for some nice wine. Also whiskey. _

At about 5:30, Darren took another shower, because he was hyperactive and energetic and excitable. While he was there, thought about a million different conversation topics and wrote a song about soap. Then he stood in front of his closet trying desperately to decide what constituted _First Date But In The Treehouse With A Picnic Attire_ until the doorbell rang and his mother called up the stairs. 

*** 

When Darren got downstairs, Dylan was chatting to his mother amiably about the weather, like that was the most important thing he had to do in that moment. It was kind of adorable to watch. He had a backpack slung over one shoulder and was wearing dark blue jeans with a black henley. 

Meanwhile, Darren was trying to ignore the giant swooping in his stomach just looking at Dylan in the front room of his parents’ house. 

“Good evening, Sir.” Dylan said when Darren finally got there. 

Darren smiled at the formality, “Good evening to you too. Would you care to accompany to the night’s entertainment?” He offered an arm, which Dylan took with a smile, nodding at Cerina gracefully on the way past. 

“Enjoy yourselves, gentlemen. Oh, and Darren?” Darren turned to look at her, “Your father and I will be going out for dinner, we’ll be back later on tonight.” 

“Have a good night Mrs. Criss!” Dylan said cheerfully. 

“Oh, call me Cerina, please,” she practically gushed before Darren waved to her and took Dylan to the back door. 

“Hi.” Darren murmured as they slid out the door and into the backyard. “Sorry about that, I was just finishing up getting ready. 

“Hi yourself, it’s okay - your mom seems really nice. Is this the famous treehouse?” Dylan replied as the got to the base of the steps up to the treehouse. 

Darren gestured up grandly, “Yep, this is the famous treehouse.” It was just starting to get dark so Darren flicked the switch on the power cord on their way up the stairs, giving the room above them a golden glow. 

“It’s so _pretty_. Sorry - is that what you were going for here or where you looking for something more- er- it’s gorgeous.” Dylan stumbled slightly over his words as they stood on the little balcony outside the fort itself. 

Darren grinned, “I’ll take pretty - I like pretty. The treehouse isn’t so bad either.” 

Dylan’s blush was unique, kind of a dark red flush right at the top of his cheekbones that would travel down his whole cheek and wouldn’t go away if he was exerting himself. Darren coughed, clearing his throat and hopefully his mind. 

“Would you like to see inside?” He questioned quietly, trying not to break the spell of the quiet evening around them. Darren wasn’t sure if he should cover Dylan’s eyes with his hands or be somehow less dramatic. 

“Can I ask a stupid question first?” Dylan asked and Darren nodded for him to continue, “Is it safe?” Before Darren could answer that yes, of course it was safe why would he invite anyone up there if it wasn’t? Dylan overrode his train of thought with determined babel ending with “I-I’m sorry, I trust you - I said it was a stupid question holy _shit_ I've just got to try not to fall.” 

“Dylan, are you afraid of heights?” 

“You caught that, huh?” 

“Let’s go inside.” Darren opened the door revealing the small couch (that had taken hours to get up the stairs and an intricate pulley system), the pillows, blankets, and fairy lights that were strung up on the ceiling. There was a picnic basket placed off to the side that Darren had put there a little while before Dylan arrived and it smelled like a perfect blend of nature and disinfectant. 

Great. 

“Wow, you really meant a treehouse didn’t you? This is so _cool_.” Dylan exclaimed, looking at the room around him. 

Darren walked through the door behind him. Even he had to admit it was pretty spellbinding lit up with tiny LCD lights. It looked almost magical. He was impressed with his own efforts and glad that it wasn’t painfully obvious how much work he had put into it just for one evening. 

“I’m really glad you like it,” Darren said, grinning. 

Dylan continued looking around in wonder for a bit, then took a seat on the floor - not the couch like Darren expected. “I might need a refund though, this is not the dilapidated shack I was expecting.” 

Darren threw his hands up in the air dramatically, “I’m so _sorry_ Dylan, whatever could I have been thinking?” He could barely keep a straight face through the line but Dylan looked completely panicked for a second before side-eyeing Darren from his position on the floor. 

“Sarcasm doesn’t become you, Darren, you’re wholly too sweet for that.” 

Darren was completely without response to that. Another quip was out of the question and so he took a seat across from Dylan on the floor. 

“Huh, you’re also speechless, that’s adorable. We should eat.” Dylan was unlike any date Darren had had before, honest and filterless in just the same way that he was. It was a heady realization that they were so compatible; if he wasn’t careful he could easily fall in love with the guy sitting across from him. 

The real question was; why the hell should he be so careful? 

Darren pondered that quietly while Dylan picked up the basket and set it between them on the floor and went to open it. 

“Wait, hang on,” Darren said, putting his hand on the lid to stop him. “I have it organised a certain way.” Carefully tugging it closer and opening the lid, Darren pulled out the two candles he had placed on top and the packet of matches stuffed between them. 

“Fire in a wooden treehouse?” Dylan questioned squeakily. Darren paused and looked directly at Dylan and pulled two empty jars out of the basket to put the candles in. 

“I’m not sure if I should be offended at your complete lack of faith in me.” Dylan had the good grace to blush and look down while Darren got the candles set up carefully between them. Then he brought out the larger containers with food in them. As discussed with his mother, Darren had made a couple of sandwiches, a salad, mini-quiches and brownies. “I also wasn’t sure what you eat.” 

Dylan looked at the array of food in front of him and Darren passed him a fork. “This is…perfect actually. I’m so sorry for my lack of faith. It was apparently completely unfounded.” 

Darren basked in the praise, feeling like he’d done something extremely _right_. 

They ate in silence for a few minutes, Darren thinking about first date etiquette. Should he talk while eating? Offer drinks now or after they were finished? He’d left the drinks inside in any case. Dylan took bite out of his sandwich, leaning back on one hand groaning around it, “This is so _good_. 

Neither of them heard a car pulling up in the drive. 

“I’m just going to run inside and grab the drinks,” Darren said to Dylan, still chewing on his sandwich. “I’ll be back in just a minute.” 

Taking the steps down two at a time Darren practically skipped to the back door. Things were working out well - the food was good, the treehouse was going well, and he couldn’t wait to get back there. He’d left his phone on the bedside table in his room so Darren quickly ran up the stairs to get it. He clicked the home button once to check if there were any messages or missed calls. Five. All from Chris. Shit, he should have told him that he was busy tonight. 

“Dare?” A voice rang out through the house that most definitely was not Dylan’s. “You didn’t answer your phone so I thought I would come and check in with you. Are you home?” 

Shit. _Chris_

Darren ran down the stairs so fast he almost twisted his ankle on the last one. “Chris! Hi! I can’t believe you’re here. Uhm, I’m busy.” 

“Hi Darren, it’s nice to see you, how you been?” Chris remarked, putting his phone and keys down on the kitchen sink. 

Darren spluttered, trying to think fast and failing. He could be honest and just say he was on a date, but then he would have to explain and they would have to have that conversation they’ve been putting off instead he went with, “How did you get inside?” 

Chris raised an eyebrow, “You’re acting like a broke in -- I used the key that you gave me last time you had the flu. I thought you were passed out or something.” 

“I-I’m just busy is all, left my phone upstairs and just checked it actually. Thanks for...being concerned.” 

And then, just in case Darren thought he was going to get off without having to explain anything, the back door opened and Dylan walked inside. “Darren, where’s the boys- _oh_ ” 

“Evening, Dylan, isn’t it? Darren, you could have told me you had a guest. I’ll just get out of your hair now.” Chris picked up his phone and keys from the bench. 

“Hi Chris, you don’t have to go we were just-” Dylan started. 

Chris laughed highly, the sound was anything but comfortable. “I had other plans for this evening but thank you. Darren, we- we’ll talk later?” 

Darren was torn, on one hand there was an adorable guy he was on a _date_ with, on the other Chris had to have driven for three hours and it was fantastic to see him. 

To see him go to that effort. Just to check up on Darren. 

With a smile and a nod Chris left, locking the door behind him in a perfectly civilized manner. 

Dylan stood awkwardly beside the bench looking at Darren, quietly he said, “That was totally awkward, and if you would like me to leave… Or tell him to come back, I would understand.” 

Shaking his head and collecting the cans he had put aside for the evening Darren moved to go back outside stopping in front of where Dylan was standing. “Don’t be silly, I can talk to him any old time -- I really want to spend this evening with you.” 

“Does he live close by?” Dylan asked. 

Darren shrugged, “As far as I knew he was spending some time with his parents too it’s - quite a drive - 3 hours thereabouts.” 

“And you just let him leave?” 

“I’m pretty sure there’s something in the first date rulebook that says not to invite quasi-exes to the party half-way though.” Darren said, he was already trying not to regret it. 

“In which case, can you please direct me to the boys room?” 

“Down the hall and two doors down to the right, I’ll meet you back at the treehouse?” Darren replied. Dylan nodded his agreement and took off down the hall. 

_You can do this, stop. focus and pull yourself together_. Darren had exactly 4 minutes to pull himself together before Dylan got to the base of the treehouse. By that time he was ready to try and smooth things over. 

“I really am sorry about that. He was worried because I haven’t answered the phone all day.” As far as explanations go, it wasn’t a bad one. But Darren still felt guilty having to say anything at all. 

“No worries, man. If I ignored Tyler all day he would be worried too.” Dylan shrugged, settling himself back on the cushions. “It’s nice that he would drive all that way to see that you’re okay though, I’m pretty sure that’s the mark of a good friendship right there.” 

“Yes.” Darren agreed. 

“Why didn't you just tell him earlier that you had a date instead of ignoring the calls?” Dylan looked up as he said it, his eyes boring into Darren’s. 

Darren paused, gathering his thoughts. “Because I was afraid that talking about it would make it less real?” _That came out wrong_. “Because I really want to spend an evening with you, without him and all that complicated shit coming into it. I want to get to know you properly.” 

“The thing about complication is that it doesn’t go away if you ignore it, Darren. But if it makes you feel any better-- I really want to just spend an evening with you too.” The side of Dylan’s mouth quirking up as he said it. “In all seriousness though, I wouldn’t have minded if you had asked him to stay.” 

How the hell were they supposed to just continue on with the date like nothing had changed? Darren thought to himself while grabbing one of the cold drinks he’d placed on top of the picnic basket. 

“So when do you go back to filming?” Dylan asked, after finishing his last bit of sandwich. 

“End of January. That reminds me, I’ve finally caught up on Teen Wolf!” He said, a hint of pride in his voice. 

“Oh hey, look at you go-- what did you think?” 

“I think it’s a little… _dramatic_.” 

“Oh _dramatic_ huh? Coming from you _Mr. Blaine Anderson_.” Dylan said, laughing like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. 

Darren tried to keep a straight face, but failed “But it’s in Blaine’s _nature > to be dramatic. I mean, could you imagine him running around fighting off Alphas? Not so much.” _

Dylan laughed again, “I’m sure Stiles could show him the ropes, he’s been beating down Alphas and chasing after lovesick dumbasses for years…” 

“Are you saying that Blaine’s a _lovesick dumbass_?” 

Grinning cheekily Dylan nodded, “I mean come on, what the fuck was going on in the puppet episode? He’s completely lost the plot and the rest of the time he’s pining for affection from anyone.” 

Darren gasped, holding a hand to his chest like he’d been mortally wounded. “He’s _sensitive_. So what you’re saying is that you’ve caught up with Glee then?” 

“Maybe, I’m not sure if I want to admit that or not.” 

“You’re a brat.” Darren fired back quickly. “I bet you’re the type that looks through his tag on Tumblr.” 

Dylan scoffed, “I’m not that brave, having fans is…vaguely mortifying?” 

Darren nodded. “I know what you mean… I should go get my laptop.” 

“I knew it! You totally do it, don’t you?” 

“Not often, but it could be funny?” He waited for Dylan to agree and then made his way down the stairs and into the house for his laptop. Darren probably should have thought this through better. There was no telling what could be on the internet about either of them at this moment. The fans --as far as he knew, had been bereft of new information about the Glee cast for a few weeks. 

Collecting his computer and taking it back to the treehouse along with the bottle of whiskey he’d brought earlier. 

“Liquid courage?” Darren offered the bottle towards Dylan and waited until he nodded before pouring them each a shot. “Who’s going first?” He asked. 

Dylan accepted his glass from Darren’s outstretched hand and moved to sit closer so they could both see the screen. “You go.” 

Darren brought up the blogging site with his login details (dccomics@gmail.com) and tentatively typed in “Darren Criss” in the search box. Then took a large swig from his glass while it loaded. “It’s so strange seeing all these pictures from events and things that I barely remember attending.” 

“And yet you have a login.” Dylan smirked, taking a sip from his own glass. 

“Yes, I have a blog. It’s solidly Marvel and goats.” Scrolling down a few posts that were screencapped tweets from earlier in the week, and old pictures from Trevor Live followed by a picture set centered specifically on his ass. Darren blushed just looking at it. “Oh my god. My ass is _awesome_. 

“And apparently a thing of worship in this community.” Dylan added. “We should make this more interesting. Every time there’s a blatant objectification photoset we should take a drink.” 

Darren quirked an eyebrow, “Over how long? You’re not driving home are you?” 

“Nah, I’ll get a cab back. How about 15 minutes? Then we’ll switch to mine.” Darren nodded and moved the bottle between them. 

“Let’s do this.Though we should probably agree on what constitutes blatant objectification.” Darren added. 

They scrolled a few posts down before coming to the first one tagged ‘crisscolfer art’ depicting a naked Darren in bed with a tweet attached apparently from Chris. “That never happened, I swear.” He said quietly looking down. 

“Hey,” Dylan said, bringing a hand to Darren’s chin to tip it up again. “I think we’ve defined what constitutes as _blatant objectification_ and even if it has, that’s so hot.” 

Darren’s jaw dropped. “You think Chris is hot?” 

“You’re such a dumbass, I think _you’re_ hot. And Chris is too I mean, look at him.” Dylan took the wireless mouse out of Darren’s hand and scrolled down a few more posts, landing on one of Chris and Darren standing together. “You’re both attractive motherfuckers. Don’t you dare deny it.” 

Biting his lip Darren looked at Dylan, “Does that count as objectification?” 

“Definitely.” They both took a drink while Dylan scrolled down further. 

Darren read one text post saying something about how Klaine was getting no respect on the show and smiled. His fans knew it wasn’t coming from them then, that was a plus. Then he suggested that they skip text posts to maximise their game time. 

There was a lot of crisscolfer and heaps of Blaine tagged as Darren, but that was the nature of Tumblr. They managed to get three more drinks in due to nsfw-rated Klaine fanart, and Darren was flattered. The artists always managed such incredible work. Usually he would like a few and send an anon message praising them if he liked it. Encouragement was key to every artist and he took it very seriously. 

“Your turn, Dylan. Let’s see what they’ve got on you.” Darren said. 

Dylan blushed. “I should warn you, people ship me with-” 

“Tyler? Or okay _both_ Tyler’s? How can I compete with that?” Darren cut in. 

“You’re not competing though. Here I am.” Dylan said. 

Darren laughed, “Smooth as fuck man, you’re adorable.” _Now. Now would be the perfect time to kiss him_. He thought to himself, eyes on Dylan still giggling and looking at the screen, drink still cradled in his other hand. 

“Oh my god,” Dylan said, pointing to a tag saying ‘just turn around and let me hit that’ by someone called ‘bbobriens.’ he burst out laughing and finished the last of his drink. 

Nothing like quick successive drinks to give someone a warm, sleepy headrush. Darren turned his head to look at Dylan, his cheeks were flushed high up giving Darren a quick reminder of what he looked like the last time he’d seen him. Panting and hot above him. 

“Can I kiss you?” Darren asked, apropos of nothing. 

Dylan smirked, looking at him carefully, “That depends, are you trying to seduce me into not winning the game?” 

“There’s no losers in the objectification game, only winners.” Darren said. 

“Look who’s smooth as hell now.” Dylan replied, close enough that Darren could feel his warm breath on his own mouth. 

Their lips met somewhere in the middle, Darren breathing in sharply with his nose and reaching behind him somewhere to put his drink down and free up both of his hands. Dylan tasted like whiskey, strong and heady in his mouth. 

Darren pulled back long enough to breath out, his tongue licking a fiery path across his lower lip. His head was spinning, more drunk off kissing than the alcohol running through his blood. 

“Fuck, your mouth is so warm,” he said, leaning back into Dylan and meeting their lips once more. His shape felt so familiar under Darren’s hands, though it shouldn’t. 

He felt Dylan smiling against and let himself be pushed back on a relatively awkward angle to the cushion-lined floor. Untangling his legs, Darren straightened them out on the floor, giving Dylan better access to his neck. His cheeks felt warm, head rushing wildly with blood and Darren moaned out loudly, unable to stop himself. 

Dylan pulled back sharply, “Is this okay?” 

“Perfect.” Darren replied, pulling Dylan back down over him.

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by em twobirdsonesong and cheered on by jen froggydarren
> 
> It was written for scott (crisscobrien), as a (late) Christmas present - hope you like it sweetheart (L) xo


End file.
